Frankly, Rhett, I don't give a damn
by Deep Forest Green
Summary: Rhett realizes, too late, that he loves Belle Watling, the town madam. Belle gives him the cold shoulder, and Rhett finds that he has been as naïve as Scarlett O'Hara by not seeing that the one who loved him was right there the whole time.


(Summary: After Rhett walks out on Scarlett in the last scene of the novel, he goes running to the brothel run by the town madam, Belle Watling. Rhett has an epiphany that he has been falling hard for Belle ever since he married Scarlett, and pehaps ever since he first came to Atlanta in 1862. However, Belle reacts pretty much the same way Rhett did only minutes before: she loved him once, but even the most deathless love could wear out.)

The morning after his breakup with Scarlett, Rhett took his bags and got in the carriage heading for the train station. But Belle Watling's saloon was right on the way. He had some unfinished business to take care of here. He paid the driver and got out. As soon as he stepped out onto the street, the driver turned away and led the horse around the corner. It wouldn't do any good for Rhett Butler's carriage to be seen outside Belle Watling's brothel. Even though she was dead, Rhett had to think of Bonnie's reputation.

It was strange to come to Belle's in the morning. By daylight, the saloon was a different place, seeming almost haunted. Rhett had passed many a fine evening in this house, but he had always snuck away by morning. Now he wasn't coming here for business or for pleasure. In fact, whatever happened, this was going to be the last time he ever entered the Watling liquor house.

Rhett scaled the stairs and carried his bags up effortlessly with him. He knew exactly where he would find Belle. Sure enough, she was in her private parlor, taking a drag on one of the Cuban cigars he had left her in the tin box underneath her desk.

She looked up at him. "So you've come to buy back the business," she said. "Well, you can have it. I ain't got no use for it anymore." She leaned back and put out her cigar. "I'm gettin' too old for this, Rhett. I'll be glad to have this place off my hands. Name your price."

"That's not why I'm here," said Rhett. He approached her desk and dropped his suitcase onto the floor. "Belle, I'm going to Charleston and I want you to come with me."

Belle gave him a quizzical look and puckered her lips. "Rhett, are you crazy? You know a woman like me could never go to Charleston. All the old dowagers lookin' at me an' judgin'-no offense," she added belatedly.

"So what? There are old cats here too, and they won't have anything to do with you either. Since when have you ever cared what anyone thought of you?"

"It's not the same," said Belle. "Here in Atlanta, a woman like me has opportunities. In Charleston-it's all old houses an' old families an' old notions. I ain't got no place in that world, they'd tell me right soon enough." She examined her nails.

"Don't be ridiculous, Belle. I will provide for you. I will make sure that no one ever says anything bad about you while I'm around."

"Right," Belle Watling scoffed. "Rhett Butler, the black sheep, the pariah, the shame of the Butler family, will prevent old Charleston folks from judgin' a whore. No, thanks. 'Sides, I thought you wanted to make peace with your people. Bringin' a whore to town on your arm would accomplish the opposite."

"We could go to England," said Rhett. "Paris, Milan, you name it. We can spend the rest of our lives on a grand tour of Europe, living off the money I made in the blockade."

"And what about Scarlett?" Belle asked. "You've asked her for a divorce?"

"No," said Rhett. "She won't have one. She-she loves me."

"So she's finally come to her senses, has she? She's completely over Mr. Wilkes?"

Rhett nodded. "She came running home last night, right after Mrs. Wilkes died, to tell me."

"An' what did you say?" Belle seemed vaguely curious.

"I told her that I didn't love her anymore. That I had given up loving her against everything she had done."

"For God's sake, Rhett, why is it so hard for you to say that you love me?"

Rhett stopped cold. His sharp words were powerless against Belle Watling's blunt ones. They always had been.

"I thought you were different from the other gentlemen types," said Belle absently. "I thought you would look past our social differences and find your way to loving a whore. But now I see that you're just like all the other gentlemen. You take a whore's love for granted in the sack an' rush home to your high-born hussy by day, never mindin' that she's about ten years too young for you. Give her a life, Rhett. Grant her the divorce. She'll thank you someday."

"Belle, I'm so sorry." Here words failed him, and he dropped down on his knees. He had never apologized to anyone before in his life, not sincerely. "You're right. I-I love you. Scarlett-I was blind. She was the glitter and you were the gold."

"I reckon I've wanted to hear you say that for about the past twelve years," said Belle. "But now, I guess, I've gone the way of you an' Scarlett. I've stopped lovin'."

Rhett froze. This was what he had been most afraid of.

"Belle, it's clear that we were meant for each other. You saw it all along, even if I didn't. We make a great duo. Together, we're invincible."

"Even if I did still love you," said Belle, "I wouldn't take you up on your offer. I'm the kind of woman who always needs to be doin'. I don't sit well with havin' someone take care of me. 'Specially not a man. It ain't your fault, Rhett. It's just that you were born to spoil and coddle, and Scarlett, Bonnie, all the people you loved smothered in your coddlin'. I won't be smothered, Rhett. I need my air."

"You are an independent woman, Belle," Rhett agreed. "I've always admired that about you. Such a thing is quite rare, and ought to be genuinely appreciated."

"I don't doubt your sincerity, Rhett," said Belle Watling. "But you might as well know now, I'm leavin' Atlanta. I'm going to New Orleans. That's where my son is. He's grown now, an' I want him to know his mother, 'cause I never knew mine." She chuckled drily. "I liked to pretend that he was your son too, Rhett. I pretended so much that I almost forgot who his real father was. Not that it matters." She took a small sip of wine. "His pa's dead, an' I'm the only family he has. It's been nice to forget that I'm a mother, but I'm nearin' thiry-five an' I reckon not many men want to sleep with a thirty-five-year-old woman. I think you were about thirty-five the first time I met you."

For the first time, Rhett felt self-conscious about his advancing age. Thirty-five in a woman was like forty-five in a man. But Belle still had some of her youthful beauty, and Rhett had begun to feel the sag of old age catching up with him all at once. Was he no longer desirable?

"Belle Watling, you will be beautiful if you live to be a hundred years old," he said.

"That's mighty kind of you to say," said Belle. "But whores-the truth is, most of us aren't right attractive in the first place, an' whatever beauty we do have we hide under a layer of powder and rouge. An' all the drinkin' an' smokin' in the place, it takes a toll on our health."

"You have never looked healthier," Rhett said.

"That ain't true an' you know it," Belle said. "Anyway, the fact is that for the last twelve years, I did everythin' in my power to try to get your attention. That night you brought those Klansmen into the pub was like a godsend for me. I knew you were on the cusp of proposin' to Scarlett, an' I thought I could stop you if I impressed you with my conduct. Why do you think I risked my neck lyin' to the Yankees 'bout some gentlemen I couldn't give a damn about? It was for you, Rhett. So you'd notice me. An' then you went away to New Orleans on your honeymoon, an' later to England with Bonnie...it seemed you were away all the time, an' I reckon that's when I started to stop lovin' you. I wasn't no Confederate. I thought the war was stupid an' a waste, like you did. But I gave your money to the hospital to try to make the ladies think highly of me, an' hoped that they would put in a good word for me to you. I could never just talk to you about anythin'. An' then, when Atlanta was burnin'...I stayed in the city the whole time, just to make sure you got out all right. I couldn't fathom why you'd waste your time on Scarlett, but I was glad at least that you were helpin' Mrs. Wilkes. I always did like that woman. An' I liked her husband Mr. Wilkes too, even if I couldn't see why Scarlett loved him an' not you."

"Mrs. Wilkes was a very great lady," said Rhett with solemn reverence. "And Mr. Wilkes, God help him, he does his best. He may be a coward by his own admission, but he loves that boy of his and if it's what's best for Beau, he'll find a way to move heaven and earth and probably throw honor to the wind while he's at it." Somewhere along the way, Rhett had learned to appreciate fine parenting.

"You've done something I never thought you would do, Rhett. You've given up." She stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Paris? Milan? You're still tryin' to live out your boyhood fantasy life with no cares an' no responsibilities. I don't know how you manage to be such a good businessman an' yet such a child."

Rhett stared at Belle Watling with the look of a patient who is less worried about his diagnosis and more worried about how the doctor can see that part inside of him. Why did Belle have to be so perceptive?

"I knew it," she said. "You can dish it out, but you can't take it. Remember that time I visited you in jail? You told me how much you appreciated me for askin' for money up front instead of toyin' around with you like Scarlett did. Women like us, we save our sweet talk for business hours. If I am a great businesswoman, it's because of what you taught me. An' I thank you for teachin' me how to do business, an' I say goodbye."

Here she began her retreat onto the cushioned lounge chair. Rhett followed her, and grasped her dainty hand just as she was sitting down. This hand had never known hard physical labor like Scarlett's had. It was pristine and pure, but only because she had allowed the rest of her to become used and dirty. He kneeled.

"Belle, I need you. If you go to New Orleans-what will become of me?" He hated himself for sounding so whiny and desperate. But all those years of living with Scarlett had rubbed off on him, and he couldn't pretend any more that he was better than her.

"Rhett, I feel sorry for you. How can I hate a man who just lost his little girl? But that ain't the main reason I feel sorry for you. No, the main reason is that you feel a constant need to be in control. An' you can't be in control all the time. Nobody can. It's not always the job of the businessman to rise to the top. Sometimes the most comfortable place is somewhere in the middle. You were born at the top and can't see much use in livin' anywhere else. So you're always tryin' to prove that you belong there, an' you live on the extreme edge of things. Folks like me, we try to be patient, take it slow. But when folks like you fall, they fall fast an' hard. They hurt everyone who comes into contact with them. An' when they're at the bottom, they have absolutely no idea how they got there." She took a deep breath. "We both made choices when we were young. Some of them we wish we could take back. But we can't, an' now all we can do is try to make the best of what's left. I can't tell you what will become of you any more than you can. I want to say that I hope you do manage to make peace with your people, an' find somethin' else to do with your life besides waste it. But frankly, Rhett, I don't give a damn."


End file.
